Angela's Journal
by VioletStella
Summary: A peek into Angela's journal as she sits in her room pouring her thoughts into it after the events of "Tony and the Dreamtones".


How can I possibly put into words the glory of tonight? It felt like Tony was singing just for me and just to me. Mother said I couldn't take my eyes off him all night, but I think that's just more of her usual wishful thinking; I'll get her for it...someday. After all, she did somehow spill the beans about my deal with the guys. It wasn't a deal I regretted making, to see Tony on that stage, looking like he belonged there, joy surrounding him...it was a moment of perfection in life that doesn't come along very often. No wonder I couldn't take my eyes off him. Yes, Mother, if you ever read this, and you probably do, you caught me. I wished we had been the only two there. Oh, that's something I probably shouldn't have written.

Anyway, Tony...Tony. Tony.

Really must concentrate on the other aspects of the evening. The event was a success, raised more than enough money. The kids seemed to have a good time, Sam even managed to look proud of her father instead of embarrassed. Of course she has plenty to be proud of; he's warm and loving and generous and thoughtful and I should probably shut up about him now. I know I was proud of him too, that had to be what Mother saw in my eyes. At least that's what I am telling myself. Just pride and happiness at seeing him achieve his goal; even if his goal was to have his clothes ripped off. Oh Tony, you didn't have to go all the way to Brooklyn for that, I would have done it right here. Oh my, did I just write that? It must be the heat from the lights on the stage getting to me, yes, that's what it is. I should erase it, really I should, but it's a difficult thing to do when it's in ink. I could cross it out, but I hate the mess that it makes. Hmm, I could just leave it in and when Jonathan reads this many years in the future, he'll be embarrassed, but probably not surprised. I'll leave it.

Oh my God, the power this man has to make me feel special; and he manages it with such ease. It's just part of his nature, I don't think he knows how very much he affects me. I couldn't believe it tonight when he said there was "one very special lady" he wanted to come up on stage. Those were his exact words, I'll just keep rerunning them in my head for a while because I want to savor that moment for as long as I can. Unfortunately, I wanted to crawl under a rock when he said that because I didn't want all that I had been feeling tonight to be on display. I was content to be in the audience as his number one fan. Maybe Sam is his number one fan. No, not tonight, she'll have to fight me for that title. It's been quite a week, just watching him rehearse, oh, that was really something. What is this power that musicians have over the female libido? There I was like a lovesick swooning school girl always hanging out at rehearsal. I hope the guys didn't notice; but why should they? It's my house, why shouldn't I hang around rehearsal? What if they did notice? And what if they did bring it up to Tony? Oh dear, I hadn't considered the situation from their points of view. I suppose that's typical for me, isn't it? Once again making a fool out of myself over a man. Sometimes I wish I could be honest with Tony, but I am just too scared.

I may not have wanted to get onstage tonight; but that was because there was just no hiding all those precious and highly protected feelings at that point. I didn't want the whole gymnasium dissecting my deepest feelings for Tony which were so obviously brought to the surface tonight. I usually lock them away even from myself, so to have them so blatantly exposed tonight was difficult. Of course Mother wouldn't let it go without comment; and pushing. I know she's been trying to push Tony and me together from the moment he walked through the front door; but we are not pawns in her romantic machinations. I'm not letting her get to me tonight, I'm going to enjoy this bliss. This flying, floating sensation that I don't want to come down from. Ever.

Oh my God, when he took off his jacket and handed it on me? I could have melted into a little puddle right then and there. Literally, I was weak in the knees. I mean, he took his jacket off and gave it to me. Me! All right, I am going to be honest here, I would have loved it if he had put the jacket on me himself. I probably would have fainted right then and there. Everyone knows a man's jacket over your shoulders means 'she's mine, all mine.' I'm getting light headed just thinking about it. Such a shame I had to give it back to him; but he had to have something to wear after his shirt was torn off. Well, he could have gone shirtless the rest of the night, I wouldn't have minded. Of course, plenty of other women there tonight wouldn't have minded either, hence my giving him his coat back. Oh, Tony shirtless. Danger Angela Robinson, in these thoughts there be dragons. I wonder if I can sneak that jacket out of his closet some time? No, I don't suppose I could, more's the pity. Who am I kidding, I would sleep in it given the opportunity. Clear head, get rid of those thoughts of sleeping in that jacket. Oh, that didn't work. Now all I see is us driving down a moonlit road in a convertible, me wearing the jacket and snuggled up to him. Oh brother, I may have to throw some cold water on me. Clear head. Clear head...time for a walk, I think.

Back now, although it was brisk and cold, I don't know whether the walk helped or not. I know it looked like I was terrified of singing, but I was just trying to control my equilibrium. Of course, Tony fixed that too, one look, one little "are you gonna help me here?" and I couldn't let him down. We made beautiful music together. OK, that has to be the cheesiest thing I have ever written, even worse than that slogan for Dairy Belle Cheese: "Cheese so good it'll ring your bells," accompanied by "You Can Ring My Bell". Who am I to argue with success, they're still running those ads.

Why am I babbling? Oh that's right, trying to avoid confronting my feelings for Tony. Tony. Why do I feel like a teenager with a crush on a rock star? No, that's not quite it, this is much more personal. I'm not sharing him with the world; but sometimes this feels so one-sided. Twice tonight I looked at him during the "she's mine, all mine" lyric trying to give him a hint, but he was too immersed in the love of the crowd to notice. Mother probably noticed it though, and has it mentally filed away for future reference. Tony wouldn't have glanced my way in high school, at least he finally did at the end of the song. Maybe that's how he made me feel so special tonight. Mr. Popularity took this gawky girl and put her center stage. I suppose, in a way, that he made a school dream cone true for me tonight too; and I don't mean the singing. He does that a lot, doesn't he? Takes this repressed woman and frees her; it's part of who he is and he is precious to me because of it.

When we sang, "she's mine, all mine," and he finally looked at me, my heart...is there any way to describe this that isn't cliché? How can such a rarefied feeling be cliché? I'm a combination of electricity, walking on air and to paraphrase Alan Jay Lerner, 'my heart could dance all night'. I wonder if the stars in the skies match the stars in my eyes. It's love; pure, strong, but also very vulnerable. Yet this still doesn't even come close to touching how I am feeling. Maybe this can't be described. How many poets and lyricists have tried throughout the ages? Not being a poet or a lyricist I am going to give up on trying to write about it and just revel in it for as long as I can. Alas, tomorrow the sun will take away all the romance of tonight and I will go back to pretending we are just best friends. It's a difficult way to live, but it's the best I can do for now...but someday Tony, someday.

Someday I want your arm around me again, just like it was for far too brief a moment tonight. I'm not even going to try to deny how good it felt to be standing there with our arms around each other. That's a memory I will treasure forever, clinging to it for hope, the hope that there will be many more thrills just like that one. I know I blushed. I didn't want to leave your arms, I never do. No matter how often you hug me, it will never be enough. Never.

Wait a minute, was Tony trying to tell me something with the choice of song? I mean there are other options; but he chose one with a very specific lyric: "I love her, love her, love her so; and I'll never, never let her go." I don't suppose that declaring love in a song is really all that specific, but Tony, dare I hope that was a silent dedication to me? Oh, I'm being silly and reading way too much into this; it's just a song, something to sing that just happened to end up with our arms around each other. I do approve of the song choice. Come to think of it, he's the one who put his arm around me and pulled me closer; I did nothing but let myself be willingly pulled. Oh, I am just going to have to continue to relive that moment to see if I can possibly discern what was going on from his point of view. I know he was happy, the look on his face told me that. But was he happy because of the success of the evening or was he happy because I was in his arms? I wish I knew the answer to that, but there is no way to know. I'll have to live in the delicious uncertainty of his feelings.

Tony, I'm going to be bold here and change a lyric. I'm changing;"she's mine, all mine" to "I'm his, all his," because it's the truth. From now on every time I hear "Rama Lama Ding Dong", that's the way I am singing it in my head; and I'm dedicating it to the one I love, Tony; you.

Oh my God; we have a song. Well, at least in my mind we do. I'd shriek like a school girl if it wouldn't wake up the whole house. As it is I am tucking myself into bed and going to sleep with a big smile on my face and using, "I'm his, all his" as my own personal lullaby tonight, I hope it inspires sweet dreams.


End file.
